Cured
by timewornInkslinger
Summary: A oneshot that came to me one day. Basically: Ivy is offered an opportunity she can't believe... But can she take it? I really like this so I may or may not continue it. Leave reviews to let me know what you think! Rated in case I do continue it.


PAMELA ISLEY. IT WAS A BEAUTIFUL NAME, REALLY. Its vowels rolled off the tongue with ease, even in the most unexpected of voices.

It was a grand, majestic, respectable name, and it had been hers once. The former bearer of this name was forced to discard it, however, when her change in lifestyle became undeserving of it, requiring something more apt.

Poison Ivy, she was now called, a name more feared than respected and twice as dangerous as her previous title. Yet, despite the undisputed fact this was as intentional as Bruce Wayne's corporate shenanigans, it was a (very) little-known fact that the name was not only that, but a shield and excuse behind which its owner hid.

And this made her unbearably lonely, though she would never admit it, especially not to the babies (plants) that often kept her company in a way no sound-minded human would.

Ivy had long ago accepted that she could never return to the simplicity and elegance of being Pamela Isley. It was quite frankly impossible, a pipe dream to put all others to shame.

As such, one can imagine her shock when the message came.

It was announced with an echoing cough to clear its carrier's throat that roused the woman from her slumber. She rose slowly as the leaves of the large plant in which she slept parted, eyeing the lab coat-adorned visitor with distrust and annoyance.

"Are you Miss Pamela Isley?" The man inquired, seeming unperturbed by her stony gaze. There was that name again. She squashed the urge to throttle him for using it and instead replied icily,

"She doesn't live here anymore." The man chuckled, causing Ivy to be very taken aback.

"OF course. Forgive me, Poison Ivy. My name is Sherman Andrews. I have a message for you from my employer, Dr. Watson." _What an unfortunate name. _She mused. _Poor, poor Sherman. _The silence stretched on as she waited for him to continue.

"Well?" She eventually snapped. Sherman started somewhat and rubbed the back of his head nervously.

"Right, of course. Dr. Watson would like to invite you to his laboratory for an exclusive chance to test his new technology." Sherman seemed to recite this like some sort of sales pitch and she bristled. She couldn't stand scientists, especially arrogant male ones. She decided she would off him, but could not leave her curiosity unsatisfied.

"Why would I want to do that?" She drawled. The man grinned, almost looking happy she asked.

"Because Dr. Watson can give you the one thing you've always wanted." Sherman said, voice hushed but serious.

"The destruction of The League and/or humanity?" She rolled her eyes, growing bored of the useless conversation even as her heart raced with a sliver of hope.

"A cure."

For several long moments the redhead stared at him. Then she broke into an angry, unintelligible, sputtering tirade about how that kind of thing was impossible and who did he think she was to believe that, etc. Sherman raised his hands as if to surrender and she slowed enough to take several breaths, though she still glowered at him.

"I understand this is a lot to process Miss Ivy. How about we give you some time to think?" He pulled what appeared to be a business card and a slim tendril of Ivy's plant wrapped around it, pulling it from his hand and bringing it to her. As she looked over the small square, Sherman gave an inscrutable nod.

"We look forward to seeing you." He called, leaving the eco-villainess to her silent musing.

* * *

It took Ivy several weeks to make her decision on Sherman's offer. Several weeks of hiding in the dark and whispering to her babies, finding it more difficult by the day to bear the thought of leaving them.

At last, however, she reached the conclusion that as much as she loved her children, she would welcome any opportunity to escape the confines of her underground home, to be able to walk and bask in the light of day without fear of being sent to Belle Reve by the League, to not be hunted...

"Hello, I'm looking for Sherman Andrews." She muttered into the receiver of a subway pay phone some time later. "This is..." She hesitated.

"Miss Ivy. We've been expecting your call. Mr. Andrews is busy at the moment, but please feel free to come down." The chipper receptionist told her.

"I will, thank you." She whispered.

It took Ivy twenty minutes and several wrong turns down extensive dead end tunnels to emerge from beneath the street on which the StarGen, Inc. building sat. The daylight stung her eyes as she scanned the area to ensure she wouldn't be seen. Swiftly, she slipped out of the sewer tunnel, onto the sidewalk and through the doors of the enormous glass-fronted building. It was surprisingly cool inside and she realized that, from inside, the glass was tinted.

As she slowly approached the woman behind the counter across the lobby, she found herself taking stock of all possible exits, of which the glass walls and ceiling made up a majority. The gum-popping receptionist glanced up as she did so, her face brightening as she identified the visitor whose shadow darkened her fashion magazine's glossy pages.

"Miss Ivy!" She said cheerily, spitting her gum and moving her fingers to the multi-buttoned desk phone. She jabbed one of the buttons with her lengthy pink nail.

"Sheeeer-maaaan! She's here for ya, should I send her down?"

"No, I'm on my way up anyway. Have her wait there, please." Sherman's out of breath voice answered.

"Suuuuure thang!" She chirped, flashing a grin at Ivy and repeating what Sherman had just said as if the other woman hadn't heard.

A few minutes later, Sherman came scrambling through the entrance to the rest of the facility, obviously trying to compose himself. Ivy didn't move as he approached, except to shake his hand.

"Good to see you again, Ivy! Sorry to just get right down to it, but if you'll follow me this way, I'll explain as we go." He turned and began moving back the way he had come and after a few moments' hesitation, she followed. Once through the door, he led her down several long flights of stairs to an elevator with only one button.

Down.

Sherman pressed it and began bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet.

"Feel free to start explaining anytime." She challenged. Sherman glanced around the abandoned hallway as if skittish before opening his mouth to speak. At that moment, the light above the elevator lit up and dinged as the door opened.

_Of course. _Ivy thought, frustration beginning to sink its claws into her. She already had long grudge against scientists, especially male ones, and not knowing where he was leading her or what they wanted of her was making her all the more nervous. Still, she followed him inside, leaning against one wall, arms crossed and glaring. Yet he refused to speak, staring straight ahead and casting the occasional glance at her.

The silence was disrupted as, after several long minutes, the doors opened on what must've been Dr. Watson's personal laboratory. Amidst the hundreds of other humming machines and inventions loomed what appeared to be a round chamber of some sort, accompanied by a massive panel of controls. Fiddling with some of them and making hurried notes hunched a tall blonde man who struck Ivy as more of an athlete or soldier than a world-renowned geneticist.

"Dr. Watson!" Sherman called as they entered. Watson glanced up and held up a finger as he sped up his scribbling. Ivy stared about her in amazement at the machinery, reaching out to tap the end of a needle jutting out the end of one contraption just as Sherman opened his mouth to warn her otherwise.

"Ouch!" She exclaimed incredulously. The attached computer hummed and blinked for a few moments before announcing in a mechanical voice,

"Undeterminable DNA. Please statically input into database for future use." Ivy glared at it and turned around, just as Dr. Watson came hurrying over.

"Welcome, Miss Ivy, welcome! Sorry about that, but I advise you not to really touch anything unless I give you the clear. Just for safety. So!" He clapped his large hands together and she flinched slightly at the sound. "I'm glad you've come. I'm Dr. Jack Watson." He shook her hand. "You've decided to accept our offer?" Ivy's eyes slid between the two men, unsure how to answer now that it would be happening for certain. They watched her as she struggled mentally.

"Yes." She finally whispered. Watson beamed and behind him Sherman let out a silent but relieved sigh.

"Excellent! Follow me this way please." He turned and moved back to the control panel he'd been working at, gesturing at the chamber before them.

"I suppose you'd like to know how this works before we continue?" Watson asked. Ivy nodded silently, eyeing the chamber apprehensively. "We utilize a combination of quantum physics and nanotech to revert your DNA to its state at a certain point in time."

"More simply, we transform you back into a younger version of yourself with nanobots and quantum calibrations." Sherman said, already beginning to flip some switches and things to turn on the machinery.

"I see..." Ivy said softly. Watson put one large hand on her shoulder.

"I know, it may seem like a very intimidating idea. Are you still certain you want to consent? We will understand if you wish to change your mind. We have no reason to force you." He told her gently. Ivy looked at him a moment before nodding. Jack let out a booming laugh and nearly knocked the slight woman over as he clapped her on the shoulder.

"Excellent! What time would you like us to use? Just before your transformation?"

"No. I'd like to go back a bit farther than that."

"Oh? When to?"

"The beginning of my freshman year of high school. It seems to me that everything started to fall apart then. I want to start over." He nodded.

"Alright then. Do you have a specific date in mind?" Ivy gave it to him and watched him input it in the controls.

"Would you mind if I... left something for he-me? For when sh-I wake up?" She whispered. He nodded again.

"That's an excellent idea. There is a high possibility there may be some effect on your memory in the process. Sherman, can you help her out while I do the final calibrations?" The assistant smiled amicably and gently took Ivy's elbow, leading her through a door across the lab into an office. He gestured to the computer chair, logging in as she gingerly sat down on its edge.

"The mic is built in, so you should be able to just use this movie maker program to record whatever you need to. Take your time." He instructed.

"Thank you." For once she meant it sincerely.

"Mm-hm." And he disappeared back into the lab.

Turning back to the monitor, she stared at the image of herself on the screen for a while before taking a deep breath and pressing the record button.

"Hey Pam, it's me. Well actually, I'm you. Or at least, I used to be..."

* * *

Several minutes later, Ivy rejoined Sherman and Dr. Watson where they were waiting patiently by the machine that would change her life forever.

"Ready?" Jack asked.

"Yes." She replied firmly. He opened the door and she stepped inside.

"Now. Once I close this door, I can't open it until the procedure is complete. Anything you have left to say, I suggest you do it now." She and Jack stared at each other.

"Take care of her." She said. He closed the door and the sound of its locking echoed back to her the finality of her words.

A few moments later, a muted humming began that swelled and crescendoed into a ceaseless shrieking. This noise effectively deprived Ivy of the ability to think and she soon stopped trying to.

Days could have passed and she wouldn't have known. All there was was that awful noise. After what seemed at least two eternities, it began to seem increasingly distant and black spots encroached on her vision. As her eyes slid shut, her heartbeat slowed and she slumped to the ground, one thought made its way to the surface.

_I'm free._

And then she was gone.

* * *

Three days later, the sun would brighten the bedroom of a downtown Gotham apartment. Outside the single window in this room, the noise of observing pigeons would cause the form snuggled in the bed to shift and groan.

And Pamela Dunham would open her eyes for the first time.

* * *

Thanks for reading! Please review. I would especially like to know if you would like me to continue this story. Constructive criticism also appreciated! :)


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